


Just Once

by Caius



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M, Marking, Spark Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-04-08 18:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4314969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caius/pseuds/Caius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cyclonus returns from a mission, and Galvatron decides to deepen his claim over his lieutenant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Once

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mellorine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellorine/gifts).



Cyclonus had been out of communication range for just a few lunar cycles – but it had been far too long. He half-expected to arrive back to find Soundwave, or Astrotrain, or even the reborn Starscream, in his place.

“My Lord?” he queried, as soon as he could.

“Here. Now!” Galvatron demanded.

Cyclonus was already pushing his engines faster than he thought possible as he replied, “Yes, my Lord.”

Galvatron intercepted him before he reached Chaar, a purple and orange flash of power and fury grabbing him out of space and pinning him down to the nearest asteroid. Thick thighs clenched around his legs and strong hands groped him all over, squeezing and digging in as if to be sure of Cyclonus’ reality. “Cyclonus,” he said, two or three times as Cyclonus yielded delightedly to his touch, and then finally, “Open!”

The hot slick grind against Cyclonus’ hips and the hand on his chest made it clear exactly what Galvatron wanted opened, and Cyclonus obeyed, immediately, his spike pressurizing directly into his Lord’s molten valve and his spark bared to his Lord’s touch and pleasure. “Lord…” Cyclonus signed, finally exactly where he belonged.

For a moment, Cyclonus’ spark lay cold and bare as Galvatron’s attention was focused between his legs, riding Cyclonus hard, moaning as the long spike touched places that no one else could, squeezing and arching to pull the long-denied pleasure from his lieutenant.

Galvatron overloaded, once, twice, just like that, and Cyclonus was on the brink, his hips twitching up against Galvatron, caught up in the wonderful pain of holding himself back for permission.

Galvatron didn’t give it, nor did he climb off of Cyclonus. He leaned forward instead, making little grunts of pleasure as the angle of the spike shifted inside him, and pressed his hands and lips to Cyclonus’ spark, instead.

“Still mine,” he asserted, stroking the marks he’d made with his teeth, long ago, petting and licking and then renewing them with deep precise bites that had Cyclonus moaning and yelling, only the pain of the touch keeping him from spilling over into an unauthorized overload.

“Yes, always, Galvatron –” his spark reached out, yearning, wanting to show Galvatron, and for once, Galvatron felt it.

He jerked back, cannon arm held protectively over his own chestplates and then, before Cyclonus could draw his energy back in apology, he bore down on him, hands grabbing Cyclonus’ sides as his own chestplates flung open. “Just once,” he said, and he descended.

Everything exploded into purple fire. 

Cyclonus could feel nothing but Galvatron’s overpowering need, the fire of his want burning through Cyclonus’ open willing spark. Somewhere in the flames of Galvatron's passion, Cyclonus overloaded, all of his control lost as he pressed up into Galvatron’s valve and spark, hands clutching at his Lord’s back as he tried to make himself utterly and completely Galvatron’s.

All too soon it was over. Cyclonus was aware of the pain of separation, and then of Galvatron sitting on top of him, watching, his chest closed, his valve still open and dripping. “Just once,” Galvatron said. His hand pressed against his own chest and then against Cyclonus’.

Something leapt up inside of Cyclonus at the touch, a pale shadow of Galvatron’s overwhelming presence inside him. “My Lord,” Cyclonus said, reaching up, daringly, to touch Galvatron’s chest in turn. He thought he felt something there, too, before Galvatron grabbed his wrist and pulled it away.

“Once,” Galvatron insisted, and he pulled himself – somewhat unsteadily – to his feet. “And you’ll always know you’re mine.”

“Always,” said Cyclonus; as if there had been any doubt. He pressed his hand to his chest where he lay, feeling for the faint trace of Galvatron’s presence. He knew something of the theory of spark bonds – he should be able to show Galvatron this, now. He focused his devotion into the warm pocket of Galvatron inside of him. “Always yours.”

Galvatron felt it – he could tell from the way Galvatron’s hand went to his own chest, and the way Galvatron looked down at him, as though he was going to take Cyclonus again right there and then.

But he didn’t. Galvatron dropped his hand and turned away from Cyclonus, from the new vulnerability. “Come, Cyclonus.” He launched himself into space, not looking back, secure for once that Cyclonus would follow.


End file.
